


Reliance

by quietcactus



Series: Lodestone [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23036188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietcactus/pseuds/quietcactus
Summary: Kageyama stared down the hallway, trying not to imagine it as some great maw into the unknown, like there would suddenly be teeth and danger awaiting him.This is stupid, I’m being stupid.With a fortifying breath, he stepped in, toeing off his shoes and thanking the hallway for letting him enter and not eating him.Or, a coda where idiot boys learn it’s easy to have feelings but harder to live with them.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Tsukishima Kei
Series: Lodestone [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655563
Comments: 32
Kudos: 300





	Reliance

Kageyama couldn’t remember the last time he spent so many waking hours studying and what a wretched existence it was that it wasn’t even for volleyball, it was for _school._ His literature class had a significant test coming up, one of those terrible things that was comprised mostly of essay questions based on previous readings. He tried to play it off, tried to respond in kind when Hinata blithely whirled around the topic like it couldn’t catch him so long as he only kept running. He didn’t want to talk about it, had felt a tight ball of nervousness coil in his stomach like a string of lights he couldn’t unravel. He felt it a personal betrayal when he somehow couldn’t control his body from flashing his uncertainty like those lights were a fucking beacon to one very particular person. 

Tsukishima cornered him a few days later. 

“You’re being broodier than usual,” Tsukishima accused pointblank, catching him as he left class for practice. 

“I’m not brooding,” he denied, shouldering his way past him, though he tried not to hit him too hard with his bag. “It’s just something I ate.” 

Tsukishima hadn’t responded as they walked the halls toward the gym. It wasn’t a comfortable silence. The coiled ball tightened.

They were almost to the gym doors when Tsukishima grabbed his bag strap and pulled him to the side, several steps from the hall’s awning. 

“Why are you lying to me?” Tsukishima asked, keeping a grip on the strap. They both knew it was to keep him from bolting. 

_I’m not lying._ He kept his mouth shut, though that was damning in itself. 

Tsukishima muttered, “Fine, whatever,” letting the strap fall from his fingers. Kageyama wasn’t sure he could unravel the ball at this point, couldn’t dig his fingernail in and find an end to start pulling. Without thinking, he lurched forward to grab Tsukishima’s hand, accidentally jerking him back. Tsukishima whipped around, looking more annoyed than he’d seen in a while, eyes narrowed. 

_“What the—”_

“I need help.” 

Tsukishima’s mouth snapped shut. Kageyama must have looked a little wild-eyed because Tsukishima’s face smoothed out, easing the tightened jaw he wore when something was frustrating him. Or someone. 

“With what?” 

“I—” Kageyama started, the words slow to come, “I have a test. Thursday. Literature.” He felt his face flush with embarrassment, each word quieter than the last.

Tsukishima shut his eyes briefly, his face a little world-weary. But when they blinked back open, his eyes lacked the derision he had feared. “Do you want to study together?” 

“I know it’s kind of short notice,” he allowed, not sure why he felt like apologizing.

“Do you want to study?” Tsukishima asked again. Kageyama searched for judgment but couldn’t find any. He hadn’t realized how tense his shoulders had gotten. 

“Do you have time after practice?” 

Tsukishima shook his head. He felt his stomach sink until Tsukishima said, “I can meet tomorrow, but Akiteru’s over for a few days and we normally eat together when he’s here.” Kageyama didn’t understand why Tsukishima bit his lip, looking indecisive, but he tried not to be too obvious about staring at his mouth. “You can come over, I guess, if you don’t mind him being around. We can study after dinner.” 

“Uh, you want me to come over to your house?” Kageyama asked, unsure why that made him nervous in a different way. This was uncharted territory. Even just with friends, Kageyama wasn’t inclined to visit anyone’s house—and Tsukishima wasn’t just anyone. He just now in this moment realized he never let go of Tsukishima’s hand. He dropped it, feeling as if he overstepped, but Tsukishima’s face closed off when he did. 

“Never mind. I’ll eat early and we can hit the library or something after,” Tsukishima said, his voice carefully indifferent. He wasn’t fooled. 

“Stop it,” Kageyama waved his hand at his face, bothered, “You gotta give me a chance first. I just wasn’t expecting the offer.” 

“I don’t want you to feel obligated,” Tsukishima said stiffly and Kageyama couldn’t remember the last time he wanted to shake him by the shoulders so badly, at least not in the last week. 

“Just say it: do you want me to come over or not?” 

“Yes,” Tsukishima said quickly, then made a pained noise in the back of his throat. Kageyama rolled his eyes at him, exasperated but a little fond. 

“Ok, what time?” he asked.

“Whenever,” Tsukishima mumbled. 

“Seriously, if you don’t want me to come over—”

“Six o’clock is fine.”  
___

Kageyama stood at Tsukishima’s doorstep, suddenly very shy. He’d been here before, he’d seen this door and the small planted lights that trailed the path. He’d seen Tsukishima’s form silhouetted against the front light as he walked away. This was familiar, to an extent. But he’d never stepped in before, never seen this part of Tsukishima. His stomach fluttered. Did he knock? Ring the doorbell? He felt like he’d forgotten how to function as a human. 

He continued to stand there, nervously clasping his hands together. They were just going to study, just going to pull out books and paper and Kageyama was most likely going to get snippy as he did when he felt a roadblock in schoolwork. It would be normal and Tsukishima would just click his tongue and there was nothing special about this. 

He remained at the door, frozen by indecision. The longer he waited, the worse he felt, which made him wait longer. He was stuck in one of those spirals. 

The lock _snicked_ and the door opened to reveal Tsukishima, looking down at him with his ubiquitous raised eyebrow. “Just how long were you planning on standing out here?” 

Kageyama startled, clenched his hands tighter. “How’d you know I was here?” 

“I saw you walk past the gate,” Tsukishima explained, “But you’ve been here for like, five minutes. You coming in or not?” 

“Yes?” 

“Ok, I’m just going to leave the door open, come in after you work out whatever’s going on in that brain of yours.” Tsukishima promptly turned and left. He felt oddly better with Tsukishima’s no-nonsense attitude. This, he was familiar with. 

Kageyama stared down the hallway, trying not to imagine it as some great maw into the unknown, like there would suddenly be teeth and danger awaiting him. _This is stupid, I’m being stupid._ With a fortifying breath, he stepped in, toeing off his shoes and thanking the hallway for letting him enter and not eating him. He looked around curiously, but there wasn’t much to indicate this house was any different than others he’d seen. There was a line of shoes near his own, most of which were ridiculously large. _A bunch of tall boys in this house, I guess._ He could see a few framed pictures hung on the wall, but he was far enough away he couldn’t see much detail. A bright light came from the kitchen where he heard Akiteru affably chatting. It wasn’t hard to tell the brothers apart by voice alone. He cautiously made his way to the kitchen to see Akiteru leaning against the counter, talking loudly with his hands, while Tsukishima was tending to vegetables, face slightly flushed from heat coming off the stove. They both stopped and looked up at his intrusion, which made him tense. Tsukishima was indifferent but Akiteru straightened, a smile on his face.

“Kageyama! I’m so glad you’re here. Mom’s out for the evening with her friends so you’re stuck with the two of us.” 

“I’m sure he’s delighted,” Tsukishima added, deadpan. 

“Thank you for letting me join you for dinner,” Kageyama replied, feeling uncertain about where to move. He decided to stand awkwardly in the door jamb. 

“Come now! I’ll help you get settled while Kei graciously offers to feed me so I won’t wither away and die when I get back to my apartment.” Akiteru shuffled him out of the kitchen to the table. Kageyama couldn’t tell if the noise behind him was from steaming vegetables or Tsukishima sighing. Probably both. After making sure Kageyama was seated, Akiteru went back into the kitchen to fill a couple glasses of water and brought them back. Kageyama’s offer to help was declined. 

Akiteru sat across from him, propping his head up on steepled hands. There was a strong likeness between the two brothers, but really only when neither of them was speaking. They both had the same high cheekbones and fair coloring. Akiteru’s eyes were a few shades darker but lacked the guardedness of Tsukishima’s. Or maybe he just couldn’t read him well. Kageyama wondered if this was what it felt like to be interviewed for a job. 

“I saw your match against Shiratorizawa,” Akiteru started. Now that he knew who to look for, Kageyama could vaguely remember him being there with the rest of their neighborhood contingency in the stands.

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. _What did you see? What did you think?_

Kageyama eloquently settled for, “Oh. Ok.”

“You all looked great out there.” 

“Thank you?” 

“You’re making this hard on him,” Tsukishima said loudly from the kitchen. “He’s better with questions.” 

“Got it,” Akiteru called back over his shoulder. He threw an easy grin at him. “Why do you want to date my brother?”

 _“Different question,”_ Tsukishima ordered. Kageyama blushed, a little embarrassed to have it so explicitly stated, but he also had a niggling worry that maybe he didn’t know what they were doing, didn’t know what _he_ was doing. 

Akiteru gave him a blustery sigh. “You’re no fun.” 

“So…you play in the Neighborhood League?” Kageyama offered, trying to do his part, unsure why it was suddenly important that Akiteru liked him. 

“I do!” Akiteru chirped, excited. “There are so many people out there who want to keep playing but aren’t quite up to snuff for the big leagues. Do you think you’ll keep playing after high school?” 

“Absolutely,” Kageyama said, then more softly, “I’d like to play nationally, if I can.” 

“Well then it’s a good thing you’re going to Nationals,” Akiteru replied congenially. 

“He means on the National team,” Tsukishima clarified, walking over with bowls in each hand. “Olympic-level stuff.” 

“Oh, very cool! It’s great to dream big,” Akiteru said. Kageyama was a little overwhelmed with how much Akiteru seemed to be the equivalent of those motivational posters he saw in the school counselor’s office. “I’m not sure Kei knows if he’ll keep playing after he graduates,” he continued casually. It sounded like an offhand comment.

“Why wouldn’t you play after school?” He asked Tsukishima, feeling faintly alarmed. 

Tsukishima set one of the bowls down hard enough that the ceramic clinked against wood, but his face was otherwise impassive. “We’re not having this conversation.” 

“What are we allowed to talk about then?” Akiteru questioned, the slightest frown on his face.  
Ah, there was that family resemblance.

“Akiteru, what are you studying in school?” Kageyama said a little too loudly. His face was aflame when the brothers turned to stare at him at the same time. He wasn’t sure what prompted him to say anything, other than a sudden need to cut between whatever was happening right now. Akiteru gave Tsukishima some unreadable look, then Kageyama a more winning smile. 

“Well! This is a great question, I’ve actually been thinking about—”

Akiteru was apparently the kind of person who could have a meaningful conversation with a brick wall. He laughed loudly and easily, generous with his responses and making Kageyama feel as if he were genuinely interested in him. Kageyama found himself engaging more than he thought he would, especially when the topic eventually steered back towards volleyball. Akiteru also readily spoke for Tsukishima as well. It felt rote, as if he was used to carrying a conversation one-handed. Kageyama found it increasingly disconcerting how quiet Tsukishima seemed, even for him. He wondered if it was always like this between the two. Tsukishima gave short answers, though not terse, but he otherwise kept silent. Kageyama felt flat-footed, both appreciative of and exhausted by Akiteru’s near-constant talking. It felt vaguely like spending time with a Hinata who was actually interested in his personal life. It was, to say the least, a lot. 

Tsukishima eventually stood up and started gathering plates to bring to the kitchen. 

“I got this,” Akiteru interrupted, taking a bowl from Tsukishima. “You cook, I clean. Besides, you’re studying for a test, right? I can take it from here.” 

“Thanks,” Tsukishima replied. He turned to Kageyama, who just now realized he had stopped halfway between getting out of his chair, unsure where to go next. “We can go up to my room.” He waited until Kageyama was next to him, then wordlessly led him up the stairs. 

“Keep the door open!” Akiteru’s voice drifted from the kitchen. 

“Fuck off, Mom,” Tsukishima called back. 

Kageyama could now see the framed photos which were almost entirely of family. He slowed down when he saw what must be a young Tsukishima, glasses this side of too big and a gap-toothed grin on his face. It was hard to reconcile the boy from then and the one halted on the stairs. He felt like he’d fallen into an alternate universe. 

“Oh my god, don’t look at that,” Tsukishima said quickly when he realized why Kageyama stopped following him, “You saw nothing.” He took hold of Kageyama’s hand and pulled him up the stairs. Kageyama could see the tips of his ears burning. His fingers were just shy of chilly but Kageyama was happy to just even have Tsukishima’s attention. He still felt off-kilter.

Tsukishima’s room was and was not what he expected. At a glance, it was unassuming: a carefully made bed, books and headphones splayed on a desk, his uniform hanging in the corner. The only thing of note was—

“Are those dinosaurs?” Kageyama asked, peering at the small figurines on a shelf. He poked at one with spikes along its back, felt the sharp nub of rubbery plastic. 

“This was a mistake,” Tsukishima announced, voice muffled by the hand he held over his mouth. His other hand was still in Kageyama’s. He sounded mortified. 

“What’s this one?” He poked it again. 

“Just get your books out, ignore it.” Tsukishima dropped his hand and turned to grab a notebook but Kageyama could still hear him murmur, “It’s a stegosaur.” 

“It seems appropriate.” 

“How so?” Tsukishima looked suspicious. 

“‘Cause it’s all spiky,” Kageyama said, making claws with his hands. Tsukishima just sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. He looked tired. “What’s going on with you?” 

“Nothing, I just have a headache. Where do you want to start?” Tsukishima sat on the floor, leaning against his bed with long, jean-clad legs stretched out before him. Kageyama debated pushing, but he also really needed help studying. Maybe it was just a headache. 

One of Kageyama’s knees creaked when he folded himself into a seated position, deciding to sidle up next to Tsukishima until their arms just brushed. He pulled out his notes, passing a study guide to Tsukishima that his teacher provided. It wasn’t an all-or-nothing test, but it was certainly weighted heavier, enough that Kageyama felt sparks of anxiety crackle. 

Tsukishima perused the study guide, one finger tracing over bullet points whilst the other idly tapped on this thigh. His glasses slid a touch down the bridge of his nose. 

“What’re you looking at?” Tsukishima asked. His finger continued to tap. Kageyama didn’t realize he was staring that intently at him.

_You, I guess._

“Think you can help me with this?” He asked instead, waving a hand at the study guide. 

Tsukishima was still looking over the paper in his hands, wasn’t meeting Kageyama’s eyes. “I sure hope so or else I’m in the wrong class,” he said absently.

Kageyama couldn’t help the quick inhale, the pinprick of hurt. He knew this kind of coursework was beneath Tsukishima, but it didn’t have to be so baldly stated.

Tsukishima finally looked up when he heard him. He blinked a few times as if he forgot Kageyama was there at all. Then his eyes widened. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s fine,” Kageyama said, and it was, mostly. He knew something was off with Tsukishima, but it bothered him he didn’t know what. _Is he actually upset that I’m here?_

“No, it isn’t,” Tsukishima argued, “That was a dick thing of me to say.” He sighed again, taking his glasses off entirely and reaching up behind his head to put them on the bedspread. Kageyama couldn’t help but notice how different Tsukishima looked without them. A bit more expressive with eyes unencumbered. It was easier to see minutes tells, like how his eyes pinched when he was upset. He didn’t think Tsukishima was hiding as much as he’d hoped. 

“I’m sorry,” Tsukishima apologized. He sighed through his nose, then edged his hand over until their fingers just graced each other on top of Kageyama’s thigh. He didn’t move further. Tsukishima instead tipped his head back until it rested on his bed. The motion threw the column of his throat into stark relief and Kageyama was taken aback but how badly in that moment he wanted to touch him. 

“I know.” Kageyama allowed himself to take Tsukishima’s hand, thread their fingers together, and rest it in his lap on top of his other hand. “What’s wrong?” He gave what he’d hoped was a comforting squeeze of fingers.

Tsukishima took a shuddering breath, the sound all the clearer with this throat exposed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. Kageyama sat there with him. Even if he knew what to say, he wasn’t sure he would. Tsukishima tended to process things differently than he did. He found himself staring at those dinosaurs again. They looked incongruously cute in the room of such a serious boy. 

Tsukishima’s throat clicked. “I think…I don’t like having Akiteru around when I’m with you. Is that weird?” 

“Maybe?” He responded. “Depends.” Kageyama had a distant inkling he knew why but he thought Tsukishima might punch him if he ever put voice to those words. 

Yet another deep sigh. “He’s really great, isn’t he.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Uh, your brother?” Kageyama hazarded. Forget studying for his exam, he somehow waded into a bigger trap and no one was kind enough to give him a study guide for this. 

“Yeah.” 

“He’s alright,” Kageyama allowed, “I’m not sure why we’re talking about him, though.” 

Tsukishima rolled his head to look at him directly. He was unfairly pretty, all loose-limbed, his hand warming in Kageyama’s own. Kageyama wanted to cup his jaw with his hand, to brush his thumb along a high ridge of cheekbone until he could rub away whatever kind of ache seemed to be lingering. 

“It’s stupid.” 

“Probably,” Kageyama agreed. 

“Would you rather I was more like him?” Tsukishima asked with such a straight face Kageyama was sure he’d misheard him. He huffed a laugh before realizing Tsukishima was serious.

“Are you asking if I’d rather hang out with Akiteru than you?” Maybe he should’ve stayed on the doorstep. 

Tsukishima made a faint noise in affirmation.

“Do you want an honest answer?” 

Another noise ran along the back of Tsukishima’s throat, but he closed his eyes and gave a firm nod as if off to the guillotine. 

“Alright. Would I rather you were your brother?” It was an easy answer for Kageyama. “Hell no.”

Pale eyes snapped open in surprise. “You’re shitting me.” 

Kageyama snorted. “Why the fuck would I lie about that? Where is this coming from?”

“I—” Tsukishima started, then stopped. “Can you not look at me when I say this?” 

“What difference does that make?” But Kageyama sort of knew why and thought _fuck it_ at this point, no one was there to judge him. He tipped himself over until his head rested on Tsukishima’s shoulder. It was a little bony and the angle was awkward, but he could feel the moment when tension drained from Tsukishima’s body. He felt his own body relax in turn.

“There,” Kageyama stated, letting his own eyes slip shut. “I can’t see you. Your secret’s safe to come out now.” Tsukishima’s shoulders gave a quick jerk from a laugh.

Kageyama focused on how his cheek warmed against Tsukishima’s shoulder until the other boy said, “Everyone likes him more. I get why, it’s obvious. He’s…a lot of things that I’m not.” His head rose and fell slightly as Tsukishima took a deep breath. “I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but I can’t stand the thought of _you_ liking him more than me and it’s dumb and we’re never going to speak of this again.” 

He couldn’t even be bothered anymore that it seemed unlikely they were going to get to studying. 

“Oh boy, ok,” Kageyama took a moment to process. “I mean, yes, he’s a lot of things you’re not. He’s all bright and shiny and like, every stranger is just a friend he hasn’t made yet. He’s easy to talk to.” Tsukishima tried to tug his hand away. “Also, and I know you love him, but he’s _always talking._ Like, sometimes that’s nice? But he always just seems to be _on_ and that’s a lot for me to handle.

“And you’re definitely a lot of things he isn’t,” Kageyama murmured. He could practically feel Tsukishima wilt beneath his cheek. He made sure to keep a firm grip on their hands. “Sometimes I’m annoyed that you’re two steps ahead of me in any given conversation. I know you enjoy bothering people on purpose ‘cause by the time they’ve come up with a response, you’re already walking away. Sometimes you’re so hard to understand I’m not sure how we ended up here.” Before he even finished, Kageyama swung his leg over Tsukishima’s to keep him in place when he felt him start to pull away. He really hoped Akiteru wouldn’t interrupt them. 

“You’re usually the smartest person in the room,” Kageyama continued, their hands now grasped too-tightly. “I feel safe asking you for help because I know that no matter how much you’ll complain about it, you’ll still be there.” Kageyama raised their hands up to his mouth, brushed his lips over Tsukishima’s knuckles. “You confuse the hell out of me half the time, but I’ve never had to be anyone other than myself around you. I can keep talking but for fuck’s sake put me out of my misery already, I think I’ve said more to you tonight than I have in the last month and neither of us are talkers.” 

Kageyama felt Tsukishima press his face to his hair, could feel his breath ghost over his ear. He shivered and hated knowing that it was impossible for Tsukishima to miss it. 

“Smartest person in the room, huh?” Tsukishima teased. Kageyama could feel a press of warm lips to his forehead. 

“Well not at the moment, no. For someone who claims to be a tutor, you’re doing a shit job of helping me study.” 

“You’ll be fine,” Tsukishima griped, but he finally pulled back. He kept their fingers tangled while he reached over to pick up the discarded study guide. “It’s not like you haven’t been preparing for something like this. Your grades have picked up already.” 

“This is different and you know it,” Kageyama argued, taking the study guide away from him. He chewed his lip. “I’m actually kinda nervous about this one, it’s worth a lot.” 

Tsukishima shifted his leg enough to dislodge him, but all he did was straighten his back against the bed. 

“Alright, where do you want to start?”

___

He didn’t want to believe it.

Kageyama stared dumbly at the paper before him, its edge crinkling in his tight grip. He didn’t fail but _I should’ve done better than this. I felt like I did better than this._ It was a perfectly average grade. He still couldn’t help but feeling disappointed. He hadn’t quite realized he was blindly walking the hall, body on autopilot as he weaved around students. He kept reading through his test as if he could divine the reason for his grade. He worried the words _Maybe you’re just not that smart_ were stamped somewhere in invisible ink. He was only distantly aware of somehow making it outside, the vague noise of his classmates muffled as if underwater. The sun was bright, the breeze was sweet, and Kageyama felt nothing of it. 

“Kageyamaaa,” he finally heard behind him, the tell-tale yell of Hinata in his periphery. “You just left without saying anything! How’d you do? Mine wasn’t great but like, when is it ever. What’d you bring for lunch?” Hinata seemed wholly, predictably unperturbed by it all. Normally, Kageyama would give some affirming grunt, a few terse words, but then they’d somehow gravitate toward Yamaguchi and Tsukishima and let the topic taper off. He really couldn’t say when _that_ started happening. Usually it ended up as excited conversation between Hinata and Yamaguchi, both probably relieved they finally had someone who so readily responded to them. Kageyama was watchful but quiet. Tsukishima half the time ignored them entirely with his headphones on. It was weird but it worked. 

He made his way over with Hinata to where he could see the other two boys lounging against a wall. Yamaguchi happily waved them over. Tsukishima gave the slightest head nod in acknowledgement. Kageyama for the life of him couldn’t focus. He wanted to be distracted from his test result and also obsess over it until ink smeared over his fingers. Hinata was already plopping down across from Yamaguchi and striking up conversation as easily as breathing. He paused, ready to sit down, but his knees weren’t working. He looked down and caught Tsukishima’s narrowed gaze. He wanted to say something, anything, but his throat was dry. _I should be better than this._

Suddenly, Tsukishima levered himself up, startingly tall against the two seated boys. Hinata had to crane his head entirely back to watch him, squinting against the sun. Yamaguchi squeaked at the abrupt movement. 

“We’ll be back,” Tsukishima said and grabbed Kageyama’s wrist without fanfare. _Uh, what?_ he heard from Hinata but Yamaguchi said nothing. He narrowed his focus to long, pale fingers. Tsukishima strode away from the group, unhurried but purposeful. Kageyama was just along for the ride. He was confused but he also could only give so many fucks at one time. 

They eventually pulled around the back of a tree nearby the gym, largely obscured. They were close enough that their classmates could be seen but just far enough away that there was some modicum of privacy. Kageyama didn’t know what was happening but he found himself content to keep his wrist in Tsukishima’s grasp. Anything that could distract him was certainly preferable. They just stood in silence for a few breaths.

“How’d it go?” Tsukishima asked, idly looking toward the school. 

“How’d what go? Why are we here?” 

Tsukishima’s hand tightened lightly in what might have been admonishment. “Your test, you’ve been carrying it this whole time,” he said and Kageyama just now realized he sure was. There was no way he could flatten the wrinkles out of it. In a pique of distress, he crumpled it in one hand and let it drop to the ground. “Also, you look like someone who accidentally deleted a recording of his favorite match. So. What’s up?”

Kageyama looked at him, really looked. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see his own disappointment mirrored, to see derision or incredulity or worse, indifference. The breeze lightly tousled his blond hair. Dappled light from the tree lent an air of calmness he desperately needed. He also struggled to maintain eye contact. He cast his thoughts back to a few nights ago. Debated the merit of what he wanted to say. 

“Can you turn around?” Kageyama asked, staring just above Tsukishima’s shoulder. He could sense Tsukishima frowning at him. 

“No. Why?” 

“Aren’t secrets safer this way?” He found himself saying, then cringed at how childish that came across. 

But instead of laughing, Tsukishima just looked thoughtful. He dipped his head, then started turning around. “This is strange, but alright.” 

So now Kageyama was staring at him, protected by this tree and expanse of black uniform. He took a couple steps forward.

Kageyama pressed his forehead between Tsukishima’s shoulder blades, a solid, hard wall of warmth. He tentatively placed his hands on the wingtips of Tsukishima’s hips. He inhaled deeply, trying to slow his heart down. He felt Tsukishima’s back tense, but he didn’t move. Tsukishima’s jacket smelled of laundry detergent and something that was probably unique to him. He didn’t know why it was so comforting. Maybe he just really liked clean laundry.

“This is nice,” he found himself mumbling into whatever material their uniforms were made of. 

“What was that?” Tsukishima asked. “Use your words.” 

He already felt silly for speaking in the first place. “You smell good,” he tried again. 

“Thanks, I think.” Tsukishima replied, but he shifted to tentatively place his hands over Kageyama’s. The action was probably a little awkward for Tsukishima, who had to bend long arms to accommodate him, elbows slightly out. Kageyama weighed his options, but he figured he’d already committed enough. He started slowly snaking his arms in a hug around Tsukishima, who let him go, most likely assuming he was at first moving away. He felt Tsukishima make a noise in his chest, but then he wrapped his own arms just slightly enough to resume holding his hands. Kageyama lightly gripped his jacket. 

Kageyama had never been quite cognizant of what Tsukishima’s body felt like. They had sort of half-scrambled around each other, movements unsure, but he didn’t think they had ever hugged just for the sake of it, just steeping in each other. Kageyama shuffled his feet to further press himself against him until they were breathing in sync, chest to back. He could feel the muscles in his back shift, muscles which had become more defined the longer they’d trained with each other. He could feel the faint thump of his heartbeat.

“Is this alright?” Kageyama asked, undecided if he should step back or tighten his arms. 

“You’d know if it wasn’t,” Tsukishima murmured. His voice dropped in register to stay quiet. The air was so clear he could smell freshly mown grass. It felt like a moment to stay hidden, a world their own so he could pretend all that existed was this boy before him. Someone he got to keep for himself. He felt Tsukishima squeeze his hands. “You want to talk about it?” 

“No,” Kageyama answered reflexively. Weighed his options. “Maybe.” 

“Ok,” Tsukishima replied, but then fell silent again. He wasn’t sure if this was a time when he wanted Tsukishima to needle or let him sit in himself. 

Kageyama sighed, felt the heat of his breath against the shirt pressed to his mouth. “I really studied for this, you know? You’d think with all your help I’d have done better.” He squeezed his eyes shut, felt ashamed enough that his eyes burned. “I just feel really stupid.” 

Tsukishima made a considering hum in his chest but didn’t speak. Kageyama tightened his arms further, now embarrassed enough that if he couldn’t see Tsukishima’s face, he wouldn’t have to see any look of condescension he could so readily picture—one that he’d been the recipient of more than once before. They had worked so hard with each other and he still found himself floundering. The thought that Tsukishima could think less of him for this was unbearable. He supposed he’d just have to live here forever, trapped in an embrace to literally save face. There were worst places to be stuck. 

Idly, Tsukishima tapped a long finger against the back of his hand. He’d seen him do this often enough with a pencil to know this was an outward sign of him thinking something over. Kageyama awaited his verdict. 

“Do you trust me?” Tsukishima asked. Kageyama felt his shoulder blades shift as he adjusted, but Tsukishima didn’t let him go. 

Kageyama swallowed thickly. “Yeah, I do.” And he did.

“I know how hard you’ve worked, I’ve seen how you’ve improved,” Tsukishima acknowledged. His voice softened, almost reluctant, “So trust me when I say you probably did the best you could.” Tsukishima took a deep breath. 

“I promise you, you’re not stupid.” 

_Oh._

Kageyama felt his breath hitch, felt himself clutch Tsukishima’s jacket so tightly his knuckles whitened. He pressed his ear against his back, desperately focusing on Tsukishima’s steady heartbeat to ground himself. 

“Don’t just say that ‘cause it’s what I want to hear,” Kageyama choked out. 

Tsukishima dug his fingers in to pry open Kageyama’s death grip, then tangled their fingers together. “It doesn’t have to be one or the other. It’s what you want to hear. And also, it’s true.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?” Kageyama whispered, wanting desperately to believe him. 

“I’m pretty sure I couldn’t lie to you even if I wanted,” Tsukishima admitted, then more gently said, “I think you know me too well at this point.” 

Kageyama clenched his eyes shut, reveling in the unexpected calm he felt from Tsukishima’s words. He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, what was time anyway. It was honestly hard for him to grasp how much he kept looking for Tsukishima’s approval. That his opinion of him mattered, that he wanted assurances from him. That he seemed to _know_ him and when did that happen? Kageyama wished in that moment he could be like that for him, too. 

_Were secrets really left best sight unseen?_

“So, you won’t lie to me,” Kageyama confirmed. 

“No.” 

“And you think I know you well?”

“I literally just said that,” Tsukishima answered.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Go for it.” 

“Why don’t you talk about volleyball after high school?” He tested. Tsukishima’s body went rigid. 

“Where the fuck did that come from?” He muttered, letting go of Kageyama’s hands. But Kageyama’s hold tightened, pulling him flush back against his chest, clamping like a limpet. He wasn’t sure what urged him to say anything, but he didn’t know when he’d next get a chance like this. “I thought we were talking about your test.” 

“We were,” Kageyama agreed. Paused. Tsukishima was starting to breath harshly and Kageyama wasn’t sure if it was from anger or panic. Both, maybe. 

“Stop it,” Tsukishima asked quietly, his voice edged. “Why are you doing this?”

Kageyama considered it, said slowly, “You know you can trust me, too.” 

Tsukishima stopped struggling. “And if I said I didn’t walk to talk about it, would you stop?” Kageyama tried to shrug but it didn’t translate the same in a hug. 

“If that’s what you really want, yes,” Kageyama said, loosening his hold enough that if Tsukishima wanted to leave, he could easily do so. He was starting to feel this moment was so fragile he was afraid he could break if Tsukishima walked away. Part of him was still reeling from his test results so he was riding on sheer adrenaline now. “But—” He stopped. 

“…But what?” Tsukishima prompted. He sounded tired but he didn’t leave. _He wasn’t leaving._

“But I don’t think it’s what you want,” he confessed, feeling a bit raw. “I mean it, we don’t have to talk about it. I just—” He tripped over his tongue. “—I want you to feel like you can talk to me.” 

“I do talk to you,” Tsukishima said, but he sounded uncertain.

“I _know_ you do,” he huffed, irritated with both of them. “Do you actually not know what I’m saying or are you just putting me off until I leave ‘cause let’s be honest, I can wait you out.” 

“And what if the bell rings?” Tsukishima challenged, “You’re going to have to go back to class eventually.” 

“Did you see the grade I just got?” Kageyama said, willing to lose a battle to win something bigger, “I think skipping one day isn’t going to change it much.” _Please, I want you to want to talk to me._ Kageyama about convinced himself to let it go until Tsukishima went a bit boneless in his hold, the fight leaving him.

“Don’t say that,” Tsukishima said, “Your grades really have gotten better. Takeda’s not eyeballing you anymore about it.” 

“You’re changing the subject.”

“I know.”

Kageyama could feel him fidget a little, knew that Tsukishima was talking a big game, but he actually would dislike skipping class. They were on borrowed time but was afraid they’d lose ground if he didn’t say anything. 

“I’m not quitting volleyball,” Tsukishima started, “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Kageyama gave a small sigh in relief but knew that wasn’t all of it. He tried to tamp down the urge to poke at him until he continued. 

“Also, let’s be real, why should I continue after high school?” 

Kageyama frowned, could feel his brow twitch against Tsukishima’s jacket. “Why wouldn’t you?” 

“We’re not all Kageyama’s, you know.” 

“The fuck are you getting at?” Kageyama bristled.

When Tsukishima huffed, he could feel it vibrate in his chest. “I mean, I’m like, good enough for high school, right? But realistically I’m just mediocre overall.” Tsukishima patted Kageyama’s hands again, a little placating and a little condescending, like Kageyama was some child who wasn’t getting it. “I’m not _you,_ I’m not just naturally inclined towards this. There are so many people who are better at this than me so it’s not like I’d go anywhere, you know?” 

Kageyama headbutted Tsukishima’s back in frustration. “Fuck, I thought we were over this already.” 

“Over what?” Tsukishima said, exasperated. Kageyama was getting annoyed with him, too. _This isn’t working. How do I make this work?_ He wasn’t sure what to—

“What do you know about Oikawa?” Kageyama asked. 

“I—what now? You’re making it hard to keep up.” 

“Oikawa, to me, is my biggest rival,” Kageyama spoke over him. “You want to talk about someone who’s a killer setter. Everything I try to do is to be him, to _surpass_ him. People vie for his attention, the opportunity to work with him. He’s _that good._ Also, admittedly, he’s, well. He works harder than just about anyone I know because he’s got a bum knee and he knows he’s got shortcomings in other areas. And yet people still willingly and gratefully follow him because he knows how to win. He’s—” _Everything I’m not_ “He works so hard it’s almost unbelievable.” 

“I’m still not quite sure where you’re going with this,” Tsukishima said, but it came out hesitantly. Kageyama lightly pounded a fist against Tsukishima’s stomach in admonishment. 

“For one of the smartest people I know, you’re also one of the densest.” 

_“Where are you going with this?”_ Kageyama could see in the distance their classmates start to get up and move back toward their school building. He was running out of time, so _fuck it, let’s wing it._

“You’re so smart it pisses me off. When you’re playing, you see things most people don’t, which is innate in its own way. You’ve got height for days. The only thing you lack is motherfucking _conviction,_ which we can work on. If you could just get your head out of your ass for one goddamn second, you could see how fucking _formidable_ you could be. People wouldn’t just say ‘Oh, watch out for Aone, he’s coming for you,’ they could say ‘Holy shit, that’s Karasuno’s demon blocker from hell’ or whatever you want people to call you.”

“Gross,” Tsukishima replied, but it sounded weak to both of them. 

“Look, I’m not saying you should aim for the Olympics or whatever, though why the fuck not. You don’t _have_ to do anything, but that’s not the point here. You’re quitting before you even start because you’re _afraid.”_

Tsukishima finally broke away, twisting around and shoving him against the tree. The bell was ringing in the background but the notion of leaving now came and went just was quickly. Tsukishima fisted the shoulder of Kageyama’s jacket so tightly he could imagine the seams ripping. 

“Why can’t you just let it be, why do you keep _pushing_ me?”

“Because I know this is hurting you! Say the word, tell me to walk away and I’ll fucking stop. I told you I won’t bring it up again and I won’t but _we’re still here talking about it._ So whatever it is you think about yourself, that you’re not good enough, it’s only in your head. Trust me, right now you’re your own worst critic and it makes me hurt, too, because I _care_ about you.” 

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Kageyama felt a new surge of panic when he could see Tsukishima was tearing up and now they were both embarrassed. Kageyama felt he was truly flailing at this point and Tsukishima’s eyes looked so wide and pale behind his glasses and _welp, we’re in it now._

“I don’t know, either. Tell me to leave, tell me to stay, tell me I’m an idiot, tell me you trust me, just tell me the truth. _Please._ ” He reached up in turn to take Tsukishima’s fist, brought it to his heated cheek because now he was scared, too, scared that he was actively ruining this and that was more upsetting than Tsukishima so doggedly deflecting. 

“The truth,” Tsukishima chuckled darkly, “The truth is that of course I’ve thought about it, what it would be like to play in college, what it could be like to play _beyond._ What kid doesn’t think of what it’d be like to be the best? But I’m not that kid anymore. I’m practical and I’m a realist and hoping for something that won’t happen is the _worst._ So you know what, yeah, I’d like to take this as far as I could go. And yeah, I guess I am afraid. I guess I’m pretty fucking pathetic, huh.” Tsukishima sounded so convinced of this Kageyama could cry himself, he never thought some stupid boy could make his heart twinge this way. 

“Do you trust me?” Kageyama echoed, terrified either way of the answer. 

“Kageyama, what are you—” 

“Do you. Trust me.” 

Tsukishima generally kept his disposition on a scale of derisive to carefully neutral, but he couldn’t hide how glassy his eyes were. “You’re too stupidly earnest to lie,” Tsukishima muttered, then blew his breath. “So yeah, yes, I trust you.” 

“Tsukishima,” he said, keeping their joined hands to his cheek and raising his other to cradle Tsukishima’s jaw, waiting until their eyes met.

“You _are_ that good.” 

Tsukishima leant down to press their foreheads together. They were so close Kageyama could feel the soft heat exhale against his lips, how their hands trembled. Kageyama wanted to bask in this warmth, to curl himself around Tsukishima until their hearts beat in rhythm but then Tsukishima swooped down to catch his mouth and _oh wait, I want this, too._

Kageyama wondered if there’d ever come a time when kissing Tsukishima didn’t surprise him, when at some point they would all feel the same, but it wasn’t then. He pressed up against the balls of his feet, used his hand to bring Tsukishima’s face closer to his own so he could steal the breath from his lungs. Something in his chest clutched when he felt the whisper-soft glide of Tsukishima’s tongue against his bottom lip and he willingly let him in, let himself shrug off the doubts and fears because it was so much better to feel so breathless from want that it _burned._ Tsukishima’s hand came to rest at his neck, thumb absently stroking against his pulse and surely Tsukishima could trust how very much he wanted him by the swift, staccato thrum of his blood. He was so caught in his own head, his tongue chasing Tsukishima’s back that he shuddered when he felt Tsukishima’s hand drag down his throat and under his collar, fingers long and painful-sweet pinpricks of heat which triggered something heavier. He caught his teeth on Tsukishima’s lip, licked his way into a gasp, desperately tugging at the buttons of his shirt so Tsukishima could just put his fucking hands on him. 

Tsukishima reached up to help him and he jerked so hard a button snagged and popped off. They both froze, a break in motion just enough to let sound funnel back in and for them to realize just how horribly exposed they were. Kageyama felt a whine catch in the back of his throat, caught between wanting hands on his skin so much it physically hurt and _I’m skipping class to make out with, with—_

“Hey there,” Kageyama said instead, lightly scraping his nails through Tsukishima’s hair. He leaned into his hand like a cat and Kageyama couldn’t help but feel so utterly charmed. 

“Hey, yourself,” Tsukishima replied, eyes closed, a sharp stamp of blush over his nose. Kageyama couldn’t help a quick little surge up to peck a kiss against his soft mouth. 

“You doing ok?” 

Tsukishima just hummed, brushing a casual drag of lips against the corner of his mouth. “I’ve been worse.” 

Kageyama was surprised by his own laugh. “What a ringing endorsement, you jerk.” 

They just breathed in each other until Tsukishima said, “Actually, well. I suppose I could also argue I’ve never been better, if that helps.” 

“Really?” Kageyama blinked, pushing Tsukishima away to catch his eyes and for the life of him he couldn’t find any humor or deceit. 

“You have a way of making me feel that way, yeah.” 

“You’re not just saying that?” Kageyama couldn’t help the slow bloom of hope in his chest. 

“Do you trust me?”

**Author's Note:**

> I can't help but want to explore some what-ifs and to know that one conversation isn't always enough. Or at least for me, some things just have to be hammered in over and over because we're so good at letting ourselves run away with the accompanying critic no one asked for.


End file.
